Musky Kisses Taste Like Night
by red devil lord
Summary: One Shot Short. Nero hates Dante's shadow. M for language.


Dis: Don't own characters/setting, merely own the words.  
A/N: Fan speculation is that the dark Dante in Bloody Palace level 101, Dante's side, DMC4 is Doppelganger or a reference to him. For the sake of people being compliant, this short runs on the fact that it is him.

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Musky Kisses Taste Like Night

Nero's decided he doesn't like the toothy grinned, darker resemblance of his elder. Perhaps for he holds the same face as Dante, twisted darker with scheming eyes. Something that the Fortuna born kid couldn't imagine. Perhaps because the shade is a trickster, enjoying dangerous, life threatening pranks. A trait that irks Nero to no degree. Then there's the fact of how it speaks in gargled tones, as it layers a familiar voice with several lighter and deeper. How it hesitates. How it silently walks around the Devil May Cry, and just...everything and anything in between. Nero is positive that he hates this shadow - Dante's shadow.

He hates him because, let's face it, the thing freaks him out. During Fortuna's collapse, he's dealt with a lot of devils - most of them more annoying than disturbing - but when he arrived here for a little weekend vaca, it was the first time a devil flat out unnerved him. Nero encountered it originally without Dante nearby. It had been well into the night. He awoke with a thirst, hightailed it off the couch, and walked sleepily into the kitchen. Things were still new to the young slayer, which meant he often used his hands to locate where walls, corners and door frames were, despite his Devil Bringer emitting a soft, blue light. Upon reaching the small area, and successfully congratulating himself for not tripping over the various messes his elder created, he set forth searching blindly for a glass.

His hand bumped off this and that. "Shit." Nero cussed, confused as to how the old man could have made the object in question so misplaced. It shouldn't take as long as it was to find a goddamn glass.

"Here," a demonic tone muttered, taking the younger's hand gently within his. He led it correctly. Literally, a guiding hand in the dark. "He puts things in ridiculous spots, because nothing has its own spot."

"Thanks...?" Nero turned, glancing at what he could have sworn was a devil standing there. Glaring, amused, red tone eyes watching, but body completely obscured by the darkness that surrounded them. He recognized the tone as Dante's and when he held up his arm to cast the faint light against his helper, he was surprised to make out the pale skin. How the elder slayer snuck up on him was a miracle. Dante's steps are beyond light. "Jesus Christ, you just about scared the shit outta me..."

His counterpart snickered, smirked, and leaned forward. Fingers cupped Nero's face and a rough, rigid tongue drew itself from his jawline to his forehead. The kid froze, dropped the glass, which shattered upon impact and felt chills breach his spine. "Hmm...more sour than sweet." Nero was positive that his lungs ceased intaking air and his heart was loud enough to occupy every bit of hearing his ears offered. This was definitely not what he expected to happen when he decided he would visit Dante for three days.

"Uhm..." The kid's face was tinted red, either out of embarrassment or a mutual feeling of attraction he held for Dante. "Uh...I..." Lips pressed against his as a larger body eased him against the counter, arms blocking his escape. It was nice, cold, musky as that of a cold, summer night. A hand lowered itself down the young slayer's side, over his thigh and toward his crotch. Nero panicked. His hand reached out, smacking the switch to the over-the-sink light. The room illuminated, shedding a soft, fluorescent glow to reveal nothing but an empty kitchen, and that lingering musky taste.

Now, as the young slayer was comforted on the leather couch, he glared at the scene before him. Dante was at his desk, as per usual when they didn't have anything to do, his mimic - that ridiculous shadow - sat opposite from him, arms folded across the thick piece of wood, eyes drawn to his master. They chatted. Dante laughed. That dick of a shadow must have been talking about the incident with Nero the previous night, and why not? It would have been a great prank if the elder slayer were in on it. Despite being unable to make out their words, thanks to some glaring music breaching the kid's ears, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. This drew attention to him, both unwanted and wanted.

Dante's lips were curled in a smirk, chuckles just waiting to be released. His mimic was grinning from ear to ear, jagged, devilish teeth behind tightly pulled lips.

Yeah, Nero was fucking certain. He hated the goddamn shadow.


End file.
